23, 24, 25, 26
Red Dwarf
"Lister, what are you doing?" Rimmer asked through gritted teeth.
"What does it look like?"
"It looks like you're making an incredible mess and vandalising the sleeping quarters, that's what it looks like!" spluttered Rimmer.
"I'm decorating," Lister said, throwing another can of paint at the wall. Rimmer flinched as it splashed through him.
"Decorating? A trained monkey could do a better job than this. A wild monkey could do better than this!"
"It's in the style of Jackson Pollock," Lister said. "I went to art college, see? Sometimes my inner artist runs away with me."
"You went for one morning! You didn't even go to a lecture!"
"I'm a free spirit; I can't be tied down," Lister said, taking a drag on his cigarette and staring around. "Well, I'm off to find the Cat. See you later," he said and walked out, leaving Rimmer glaring after him.
Merlin/Buffy
Merlin couldn't quite believe how horribly wrong everything had gone. He'd told Gaius he'd be out for some time, but had somehow accidentally gone time travelling and now he was stuck in some hideous tavern with a drunk who was writing him poetry.
"I love your hands," he'd said. Merlin had been sitting gloomily at the bar, trying to work out a way out of this one, and hadn't been sure he'd heard correctly.
"Sorry?" he'd said.
"Can I buy you a drink?" the guy had asked, and Merlin had taken the view that being stranded in the future was probably about as bad as his day could get, and how much harm could one drink do? How wrong he'd been.
"Oh Merl, with skin like pearl," the drunk declaimed. "Your ebony hair all in a swirl."
Merlin bit his lip, unsure whether to die of embarrassment or die laughing. Something about this man, though, led him to believe that laughing would be a bad idea, so Merlin tried to look both flattered and not interested.
"My love for you, like a flower, unfurls."
The drunk gave him an expectant look. Merlin was saved from having to reply by a bloke standing beside them.
"That was fucking dreadful," he announced. The drunk turned round, suddenly looking a lot more dangerous.
"Say that to my face," he said softly. Merlin winced. The bloke was well over six feet tall, almost as broad as he was tall and looked even stronger than Arthur.
"I said, that was a load of crap," the bloke repeated.
The drunk snarled, an animalistic sound, and the bloke screamed as the drunk lunged for him. Merlin couldn't see very well, but it looked as if something horrible was forcing its way out through his one-time paramour's face. Merlin heard the crack of bone, and decided, on balance, it was best to be elsewhere. Fast.
Buffy
Drusilla got…difficult when it rained. Sometimes she thought of the rain as liquid life, the blood of the sky, and insisted on being out in it, occasionally naked and, if Spike couldn't stop her, dancing. Spike usually managed to avoid both the naked and the dancing, but he always had to be out there. Other times, she'd think that the sky was crying, that she had displeased God. Then she would cry too and Spike would have his work cut out trying to explain that even if there was a god, they didn't care whether or not it was angry. So far, all his attempts to explain had just made her even more upset.
This time though, when the rain came she sat up, alert and watchful.
"What is it, pet?" he asked, wheeling over to put his hand on her arm. She didn't react.
"A change," she said. "A rebirth," and she laughed, a deep, eerie laugh which sent a chill down his spine.
"Angelus is coming."
This one was for the lateness prompt!
Angel
Not for the first time, Wesley wondered why Cordelia was never on time. She was supposed to be in the office at nine, but on a good day it would be quarter past and sometimes it could be as late as ten before she arrived.
'Arrived' being the right word. She never slipped in quietly, never showed any sign of contrition for her tardiness. No, it was all 'Hi Wesley, do you want a coffee Wesley, you wouldn't BELIEVE what I read in the paper, Wesley, is Angel up yet, Wesley?'
He'd thought of mentioning it to Angel, but he'd only been here a few weeks so maybe it was too soon. Besides, when he'd hinted, Angel had given him a look and walked away. Best to leave it. Wesley frowned to himself and glared at the clock. Cordelia was late, Angel was asleep and once again, Wesley was on his own.